Amazing at Everything? More or less
by Kippysaurus
Summary: When someone manages to destroy the laundry room of the Moby Dick, a thoroughly confused Portgas D. Ace is on the hunt! Could be read as a sequel to 'Help I'm a Pirate', but doesn't have to be.


**Hey folks! Merry holidays!**

***Offers up oneshot and hopes not to get killed by angry mob demanding wtf im doing***

**Enjoy!**

Ace looked on at the absolute clusterfuck going on in the laundry room. Clothes were sprawled everywhere, in various states of covered in bubbles from the washing machine. Oh, and did he mention that said washing machine had blown up? Not only were the clothes covered in bubbles, some of them were on _fire. _They also seemed suspiciously small, something close to what 5-year-olds would wear.

'_I mean, come on,'_ Ace thought, '_I was literally raised in a forest, and yet I can still use these things without it blowing up. How does someone else, with experience with these things (or seemingly _not_) manage?'_

He was still relatively new to being on board, but no-one had seemed that technologically impaired…

As he stood gaping in the doorway, he failed to notice Izo striding up towards him. As such, he started when the geisha yelled behind him.

"For fuck's sake. THATCH, HE'S AT IT AGAIN! WE'RE GONNA NEED A NEW WASHING MACHINE!"

The reply was also shouted, but seemed to be getting closer. Ace pitied for his ears, he wasn't sure they'd still be in working order by the time the conversation had finished.

"AGAIN? BUT WE JUST GOT ONE TWO MONTHS AGO!"

"AND NOW WE'RE GONNA NEED ANOTHER!"

Thatch rounded the corner, hair disheveled and slightly out of breath. "Alright Izo, keep your hair on. Now what have we got heere… ohshit." His jaunty sentence turned serious as he also witnessed the amazing room of doom.

"Like I said, he's at it again. Safeguard your kitchen." Izo said gravely. Ace stared between the two. What was going on?

Before he was given time to ask, Thatch and Izo stormed off, with Thatch muttering about 'getting some kairoseki on the galley doors'. Why was that necessary anyway?

And who was the one to cause this mess?

* * *

Thatch had, in fact, made good on his promise. The handles and random other parts of the doors were now coated in a thin- but very strong- layer of kairoseki. It wasn't amazingly noticeable, Ace knew because he had tried to get in for an early breakfast only to find his energy drained after trying to push the door open. He ended up slouched on the floor in front of it, his head still touching one of the coated parts of the door.

Thatch had found him a couple of minutes later, smirking. "Well, glad that works," he said, and pushed open the door smugly. Now that was just plain rude!

Ace got to his feet, grumbling, and set out to do… something, before hearing an almost agonised scream coming from behind him. He turned around to find Thatch staring with horror into his kitchen, which was in ruins much like the laundry room had been.

It looked like someone had tried to make themselves lunch, but without any knowledge of how to use a stove. Judging from the stains, the interloper had been trying to make soup- or maybe pasta. The reddish one going down the wall could be either. Added to that, 'mystery man' as Ace had just dubbed him, had somehow managed to get flour on just about everything, despite not needing to use flour at all. Half of the utensils were either broken or discarded around the floor, and Ace watched on in pity as Thatch mourned his kitchen.

It was only then that he noticed a bright sheet of yellow paper on the work surface. It read:

'_Tried to clean up but failed, as you can see. I'll pay for damages.'_

Ace was still confused. How did someone fail at cleanup so badly? And once again, who was this guy?

* * *

"But Oyaji! You have to stop him, or we'll end up having to replace nearly everything on the ship!" Thatch whined. Normally he was a laid-back kind of guy, but the idiot had destroyed half of _his_ kitchen. Again.

"Guararara! And what makes you think I can stop him, son?" Whitebeard laughed. It wasn't like said idiot fully listened to him anyway.

"What happens if we shackle him so he can't move?"

"I wouldn't if I were you," Whitebeard shut Thatch off before he could question, "one, because that is taking his freedom, and two because you sound like you're going to shackle him to a bed, if you know what I mean."

Thatch blanched. Of course he knew what Oyaji meant. The disgustingness that was- no. Just no. Stop thinking about it, seriously. Don't do it Thatch.

The stupid image appeared in his head. Dammit. He looked at it, and instantly regretted it. His face scrunched up like he'd chewed a lemon. Whitebeard burst out laughing.

"Guararara!"

* * *

Here Ace was, minding his own business as usual, when suddenly a massive explosion shook the deck- and probably everywhere else- causing him to nearly fall over the side.

Cursing his luck, he sped towards the source of the explosion, which seemed to be coming from the engine room. After he arrived near the front of the crowd (after a succession of slightly underhanded tactics, up to and including kneeing, elbowing, threats to people's crotches, delivering those threats and tickling), he spotted the instantly distinguishable blond hairstyle of the first division commander, Marco.

Only it didn't seem as blond this time round. Most of it seemed to be coated in at least one layer of black, viscous oil, making the hairstyle look more like a mouldy pineapple than anything else. . And instead of giving a lecture to someone, it seemed like _Marco_ was the one getting lectured! Vista was in the middle of giving the dirty blonde a very stern talking to, and Ace could see now why he'd had to barge through so many people. The opportunity was too good to miss!

"This one was accidental -yoi! I didn't think that unscrewing it would do anything! Or that I'd cut myself and have to heal -yoi!" Marco was doing a surprisingly good impression of Thatch when he got caught doing something stupid, give or take a couple of 'yoi's.

"What, the one which has 'warning: high pressure oil' written under it?" Vista asked sceptically.

"Exactly -yoi! How was I supposed to know the oil would explode?" A very good impression indeed.

Hang on… did this mean Marco was the one responsible for all the rest of the accidental chaos around the ship? Huh. He'd never have thought it would be Marco, of all people. He'd thought it was Haruta, if only to screw people over with it.

Once again, he was too caught up in his thoughts that he failed to notice Thatch sneak up behind him.

"Boo." Sadly, he jumped about half a foot in the air, sending Thatch into helpless sniggers.

"Not funny, Thatch. And what's with Marco's uselessness all of a sudden?"

"All of a sudden? Nah, he's always been this useless." Thatch lowered to Ace's ear to whisper conspiratorially in it, "Some of us reckon part of the reason he got moved to First Commander is so he didn't have to come near any of this stuff."

"Of course, that's never stopped him. Every now and again he has a slight lapse in judgement from stress and decides he needs to do his washing himself, or make himself lunch, or… whatever the hell happened here, ultimately causing more stress for himself. Either way, once he's started, more are likely to continue, which is why I got the galley doors coated. And no, I'm not going to take it off- it might prove useful against a certain _fridge-raider_." Ace would forever deny pouting at this statement.

"Aww, but what if I get hungry? Like right now for instance?"

"Then it sucks to be you, kiddo," Thatch said faux-sympathetically. "But seeing as it is getting close to dinner I should be getting started with that, meaning… you're in luck!"

Ace cheered as the two left the scene of chaos, letting the crowd swallow up the space.

* * *

Of course, news of Marco's ineptness spread fast- pirates were known for their superior gossiping skills- so the next day the whole crew and most of the allied crews knew and were teasing Marco over it. Ace was currently consoling the Phoenix over his loss of any respect the newer crewmembers might've had for him.

"There there, they'll all have forgotten about it tomorrow… if they all somehow get amnesia!" Ace remarked. He knew he was supposed to be consoling the man, but jokes at Marco's expense were fun!

"Shut up, Ace -yoi."

* * *

_A couple of months later..._

It had started as a relatively sane conversation between the 1st and 2nd Division Commanders, but had quickly turned into an intense game of 'keep Marco in the room'. Ace wasn't sure why he bothered any more.

"No, Marco! I'll cook it for you! You need to get on with that paperwork, I'll get you some pasta!" Ace pleaded. It wasn't often he begged to get _someone else _food, but he didn't want Marco anywhere the kitchens. Thatch had sworn that if Marco came anywhere near them with the intention of cooking, there would be hell to pay.

"I've already finished all my paperwork Ace, it's you who hasn't -yoi," Marco pointed out. Ace cursed in his mind. He'd known there was paperwork to be done, but hadn't considered it would be his.

"Ok, ok true! But there is a real reason I don't want you going near the kitchens!" He tried again, this time hoping sounding anguished would help his cause..

Marco briefly stopped on his crusade to ask what that reason was, to which Ace replied, "Because… Thatch is setting up a really impressive prank to launch on you, and I don't want you getting caught in it!"

Marco's brow arched upwards doubtfully. "I know what this is really about- yoi. You don't want me near the kitchen in case I destroy it again, do you?"

Ace pulled the most innocent expression he could muster, "Noo~?" Unfortunately it came out as a question. Marco used his most impressive 'I-don't-trust-a-word-you-say-now-tell-me-the-truth-yoi' face, and Ace caved.

"Thatch doesn't want you near the kitchens and he said he'd stab you in the appendix if you came near with the intention of cooking and I don't think you wanna be stabbed so I'm gonna do it for you."

Marco blinked, then said okay once he'd processed the information, leaving Ace to go make him some pasta.

Once Ace had rounded the corner, he let out a deep sigh of relief. He'd really dodged a bullet there.

_**The End.**_

* * *

**So, how was it?**

**The original headcanon comes from OnePieceDoesExist, somewhere in their fic.**

**Ok so, the idea was that Marco is amazing at everything… except everyday things.**

**Massive amounts of paperwork? Check. Fighting? Check. Being a doctor? Check. Emergency navigator? Check. **

**Cooking or laundry? Absolutely not.**

**Reviews, favourites and follows always appreciated!**

**Once again, Merry Holiday!**


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